In the Time of the Circle
by esterell
Summary: We know what happened, but how did it happen? The beginnings of the Circle as witnessed by Lucian Graymark.
1. Prologue

"Lucian?"

He turned on his side to look at her, standing in the doorway, her witchlight in her hand. "Jocelyn."

She hesitated, looking over her shoulder. Girls were strictly not allowed in the boys wing, just as the boys were not allowed in theirs. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." He sat up and moved over, making room on the bed for her. She came and sat down next to him, her eyes lingering on the white scar on his wrist. The twining black rune that had burned so painfully that afternoon had faded already. She touched it lightly with two fingers and looked over at him with wide green eyes.

"You're trembling. It doesn't still hurt?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't hurt."

"Are you lying to me?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. I was having a nightmare, so everything sort of hurts, in a way."

Her fingers stroked his wrist gently, so gently. "Oh Lucian..."

He forced a smile. "It's fine really."

And it was, mostly. Now that she was here, and his dream was proved only that, a dream. He had dreamt of Jocelyn, marks spidering across her body like twining vines, consuming her as she screamed and screamed. And he had stood by, unable to move as she burst into flames, burning to a charred skeleton before his eyes. Just the memory of it was enough to make him shudder.

"Lucian." Her hand moved from his wrist to his shoulder, squeezing it in comfort. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted. Instead, he looked up at her, trying to keep his lips from trembling. "Do you think I'll ever be a Shadowhunter, Jocelyn?"

Her eyes widened. "Of course. Of course you will."

"And what kind of Shadowhunter?" he demanded bitterly. "One who can't bare Marks, can't handle weapons, can't-was

"It's in your blood," she said simply. "You will learn, I know you will."

His hand went to hers on his shoulder, gripping her wrist. "And if I don't? By the Angel, Jocelyn, what if I don't?"

A short pause. Then: "Do you mean... you wouldn't leave the Clave... would you?"

He said nothing.

He watched her eyes as they filled with tears. "Oh Lucian." She wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. "Give it time, please? Just give it time, I'm sure it'll work out."

"Jocelyn." He unlaced her arms from his shoulders and held her hands in his. "If I did, if I... if I left the Clave. Would you still be my friend?"

She hesitated. "The law says I couldn't be."

His hands tightened on hers. "That's not an answer."

She took a sharp breath, and then met his eyes steadily, no doubt in them at all. "Yes. I will be your friend. No matter what."

"No matter what?" he whispered. "You promise?"

Her hands tightened on his. "I promise. Where ever your life goes, you will always be part of me."

They held each other for a moment longer, until he smiled, a faint and slightly sad smile. "Then I'll give it time." _For you. Only for you._ He let her go and lay down, trying to convey with his eyes that his heart was just a little bit lighter. "You should go now. We have training in the morning."

She stroked his hair back from his forehead, her eyes sad. "I suppose we do. Sleep well, Lucian. I'll see you in the morning."

She got up and left and shut the door behind her, taking the light with her. Still, he lay in the darkness for a long time, his thoughts turning like the wheels of some great and complicated clock. If leaving the Clave did not mean leaving Jocelyn, why shouldn't he? Why not, when it was clear he would never be a Shadowhunter, never fit in. Surely it would be easier to be a mundane than this. But she had asked him to give it time, and this, he would do. Even at ten years old, he knew he would do anything Jocelyn Fairchild asked of him.


	2. valentine

Lucian Graymark crouched on top of the crumbling stone wall, his crossbow cocked to fire, his sights set on the demon about four feet below him. It snuffled at the base of the wall, pawing at it with cloven hooves. It had no eyes to see him with, and it wasn't smart enough to realize that though its nose said he was right in front of it, it would have to be able to climb stone to find him. Lucian checked his aim once more, than fired. His bolt, marked for accuracy and destruction of demon flesh buried itself in the pulpy head of the creature. The thing reeled away from the wall, squealing as ichor poured from its wound. It stumbled awkwardly in circles, trying to escape the pain of the runes as Lucian watched. After a moment, it fell to the ground, folding in on itself until it was nothing. Gone.

Lucian sighed, reloading his crossbow almost without thinking about it. He stared at the spot where the demon had been, frowning. Though he accepted his duty to slay demons and recognized their evil nature, there was some part of him that hated killing anything that looked quite so helpless. He shrugged and stood up, jumping easily to the ground.

At almost exactly the same time, a shape launched itself from a tree behind him and flew over his head, shrieking. It landed in front of Lucian, its claw-tipped leathery wings scrabbling at the ground, small, sharp teeth bared in a snarl.

Lucian raised his crossbow, his mouth set in a firm line. If he had still been sitting, or worse standing on the wall, the creature would have tackled him to the ground. He cocked his bow, aiming for the demon's red eye.

But before he could shoot, another figure leapt from the branches above, landing on the demon's back. White-blond hair and silver-bright metal flashed as the figure drove his knife down and sank it into the creature's neck. Ichor sprayed up and fell to the ground with a sizzle, and the creature howled and screamed as it vanished into nothingness.

The young man straightened up, dark eyes and hard smile amused. "Lucian. Are you going to shoot me?"

"Valentine!" Lucian lowered his crossbow sheepishly, his face going red. "I wouldn't have. You know I wouldn't have."

"I know," Valentine said, kneeling down to clean his dagger on the grass. "And I know you would have killed that demon as well, but ..." He flashed a stunning smile. "I suppose I couldn't help myself."

Lucian couldn't help smiling back. "It's fine." He peered into the darkness around them, scanning for every movement. "How many of them have we gotten do you think."

"There were ten to begin with," Valentine said. Finished cleaning his dagger, he sprang lightly to his feet and held up his two hands to count them off. "We were each fighting one at the beginning. I would assume all four of those are dead. Other than that, I've killed three, including the one here." He nodded to the ichor-splattered ground, then looked to Lucian. "How many did you get?"

"Just one other," Lucian admitted, feeling ashamed. "And I saw Maryse finish off another, so there should only be one more to-"

A harsh scream echoed through the woods, followed by a shower of blue sparks that lit up the northwest sky. Lucian had his crossbow out and was heading in that direction when Valentine put a hand on his arm. "No. Nothing human could have made that sound. That must have been the last demon."

"Ah." Lucian lowered his crossbow again. "If that's the last one, I suppose we can head for the gate."

"Though I'd keep that crossbow out if I were you," Valentine cautioned as he led the way through the woods. "We might have miscounted."

Lucian nodded, keeping his hands on the bow as he followed Valentine, who had taken his witchlight stone from his pocket. The erie glow made the woods look mysterious and somehow ominous, but Lucian was not afraid. He was a demon hunter, sixteen years old and strong for it. He had nothing to fear from the dark places of the world, especially not with Valentine Morgenstern at his side. It had been a long time since he had considered leaving the Clave.

He still remembered the day he had first met Valentine, the best and the brightest of Idrus's young Nephilim. Only a few days after Jocelyn had asked him to give himself time, they had been training with the other students in one of the many training rooms of Alicante's school.

"You hold it like this," Jocelyn told him, adjusting Lucian's grip on the dagger he held. "If you throw it like you were going to, you won't be able to aim at all."

Lucian grinned at her. A few days removed from his despair and hopelessness, he had decided it was easier to joke about his failings, rather than bemoan them.

"But I can't aim anyway," he told Jocelyn lightly. "Watch." Using the grip she had showed him, he turned, pulled the dagger back to his right shoulder, and threw. It spun crazily, end over end, nearly hitting a boy in the back of his blond head before clattering to the ground.

Jocelyn gave him a stern look. "Lucian."

Lucian looked thoroughly abashed. "Oopse..."

"Oopse is right!" another boy standing near the blond boy called. "You want to watch yourself, Graymark."

Lucian looked down, knowing he was blushing. "I'm sorry..."

"Leave him alone, Pangborn!" Jocelyn snapped, stepping in front of Lucian, hands on her hips. "He didn't do anything!"

"He's a danger to everyone around him," another boy put in, moving up beside Pangborn. "Sometimes I honestly don't know what the hell he's-"

"Now now, boys."

The speaker was the blond boy Lucian had almost hit. He pushed his way between the two boys, putting a calming hand on each of their arms. "There was no harm done. Leave them be."

The two subsided reluctantly, giving Lucian and Jocelyn evil looks, which Jocelyn returned as Lucian continued to study his shoes.

His defenders subdued, the blond boy looked Lucian and Jocelyn up and down. "I'm sorry about this," he told them. "My friends are often... overly enthusiastic."

Jocelyn shrugged, folding her arms across her chest. "If you're so in charge of them, you tell them to leave my friend alone."

"I'll do that," the boy promised, apparently oblivious to Jocelyn's tone. Looking past her, he scrutinized Lucian, frowning as if he were trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle simply by watching it and thinking. "It's Graymark, isn't it? Lucian Graymark?"

Lucian looked up, surprised. "Um... yes?"

The boy smiled and held out a hand. His face was striking, dominated by intense dark eyes, and framed by hair so fair it was almost white. "I'm Valentine. Valentine Morgenstern."

Lucian took the hand, feeling slightly strange. "It's... it's nice to meet you."

Valentine smiled again. "Likewise." He released Lucian's hand, turning away, then turned back. "You know, that throw wasn't as bad as you think. Practice it some more, with your eye fixed on the target and I think it will come more easily."

Lucian blinked at him. "You think so."

Valentine nodded. "I do." With another brief smile, he strode away to another section of the training room, his cronies trailing after him. Lucian watched him go, a wondering expression in his eyes. Jocelyn watched him as well, her small face set in a frown.

Now, he walked through the woods at Valentine's heals, and felt himself the luckiest Shadowhunter in all the world.


End file.
